


Murphy's Cops Law #42

by Python07



Series: Murphy's Cops Laws [37]
Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 09:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3286007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Python07/pseuds/Python07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Small fic based on Murphy's Cops Law #42: “Spill-proof” lids containing steaming hot coffee, aren’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Murphy's Cops Law #42

Claudia shoved the door open so that it banged against the wall at Leena’s. She backed in with her hands up. She frowned. “I’m really sorry, Artie.”

Artie winced and shooed her out of the way. “Out of the way.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

Artie grunted. “If you did, I’d have to fire you.”

“Again,” Claudia said lightly.

The joke fell flat and Artie glared at her. “You don’t get to ride in the Jag or carry coffee anymore.”

Claudia bit her bottom lip. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

Artie started on the steps to go up to his room. “You’re going to be doing inventory for the next two months.”

Claudia pouted. “Two months.”

“If you’re not careful, I’ll take away your Farnsworth, too.”

Claudia nodded. “Okay,” she sighed. “Two months.” She peered up the staircase and saw him turn to go down the hall. “It was an accident, you know,” she called after him.

“You expect me to believe you. Starbucks was your idea,” Artie yelled back irritably. “You, the chaos imp.”

Claudia grinned. “I know you love me, Artie.”

Artie’s answering shout echoed through the entire house. “There’s a thin line between love and hate.”

“What did you do?” a feminine voice asked in amusement.

Claudia jumped and turned to see Myka and Pete behind her. She shrugged helplessly. “Well…”

Pete and Myka exchanged glances and then turned their attention back on Claudia. “Well,” he prompted.

Claudia rubbed her hands together and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Well, I kinda spilled coffee in the Jag.”

Myka whistled and shook her head. “Oh, you didn’t. You know how Artie loves that car.”

Claudia looked away. “And all over Artie’s lap.”

Pete inhaled sharply and made a pained sound. He reflexively held his hands over his groin. “Oh, that hurt.”

Claudia hugged her arms across her chest. “Yeah.”

“Where is he?”

“He went up to change.”

Myka put a hand on Claudia’s shoulder and steered her out the door. “Come on. You shouldn’t be here when he comes down. Let’s go to the Warehouse. We’ll start on that inventory.”

“You think he’s really mad?” Claudia asked. Her tone was subdued, almost like a little girl.

“No,” Myka answered kindly. “But I’d stay out of his way for a while.”

Pete shut the door behind them. Then he took the steps two at a time. He hurried down to Artie’s room, knocked, and went in without waiting for a response. He looked around but didn’t see Artie. Then he noticed the bathroom door was open a crack and light filtered out. He went to stand by it. He raised his voice to be heard over the sound of running water. “Hey, you all right?”

“I’ll live,” Artie growled.

Pete leaned against the wall. “You know she didn’t mean it.”

“I have my doubts.”

“You know that Claudia would never hurt you.”

“How do we know that?” Artie snapped.

Pete rolled his eyes. “Artie.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” The water turned off. Artie opened the door and almost bumped into Pete. He was dressed in an old red bathrobe. “I know,” he grunted. “It just hurt. A lot.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Pete gave an exaggerated shudder. “But two months of inventory? Don’t you think that’s cruel and unusual punishment?”

“No. Cruel and unusual would be three months,” Artie answered, deadpan.

Pete chuckled. He didn’t move to put any distance between them. He looked Artie up and down. A smile slowly crossed his face. “Any damage?” he asked suggestively.

Artie felt the heat creeping up the back of his neck. “No. Just a little…” his voice trailed off when Pete lightly touched him through the thin material. “…sensitive,” he croaked.

Pete’s smile turned into a full fledged leer. “You’ve had a traumatic morning,” he whispered. “How about we play hooky this afternoon.”

“What…uh…” Artie licked his lips. “What did you have in mind?”

Pete arched both eyebrows and slipped a hand inside Artie’s robe. “I think I should give you a physical to make sure everything is in working order.”

Pete’s heated gaze and words short circuited Artie’s brain. He shut his eyes and reveled in the feel of Pete’s fingers caressing his skin. “Yeah,” he stuttered, “okay.”


End file.
